Yesterday was one of those nights
you know
the ones where you can’t drink a single drop of sleep because
surprise! the drink me bottle’s empty. Again.
(oops! my bad. I must have drunk too much last night)
Yesterday night I lay
eyes closed, breathing slowed
the control room to my mind empty for the night.
I prepare to step through the arched doorway to Dreamland
Before (that is) the ground gives way
Shadowy hands yank and claw me
down
down
down the white rabbit’s hole
I’m trapped in the tunnel of what ifs?
The pitter patter of cyclical thoughts echo
and pool on the edges of my mind.
(a constant internal down pour)
The serial killer lurking in my mind
(he was on a rampage tonight, apparently)
Beckons me from the gutter
And i know enough not to talk to strangers
let alone the ones in my mind
But, he smiles
so I (stupidly, of course) come closer
I give him a piece of my sanity to snack on
he takes me on a journey
through the forest of fears
(carves deep gnashes on my mind with broken branches)
(He makes me believe their beauty)
Tells me that he can make the pain all go away
if only
I follow him forever
(of course a promise is a promise)
save me a seat at the table of anxiety
(bits and pieces of anxiety pie still cling to my clothing)
pushes me off the cliff of insanity
(all the best people are just a little bit crazy)
as I fall
down
down
down
(wait, this again?)
(oh, where was depression when you needed it the most?)
I land right in the middle of a tipsy tea party
The Mad Hatter and March hare sit among pots of tea and bowls of sugary sleep
(care for a cup of tea?)
They sprinkle a pinch (or two) of nostalgia
and add a dollop of fresh anxiety
top it off with a (few) drops of liquid insanity
I drink it greedily, but, it doesn’t work (naturally)
(Something’s missing)
Depression comes to save the day
(my knight in shinning Armour)
(his sword of sadness slices through the imaginary mess I’ve tangled myself in)
We travel back
(a race against time)
the arched doorway to Dreamland so close
But just as I (finally) make it through
The white rabbit’s giant pocket watch (conveniently) falls from the sky
crushes me and hopes of sleep
up
up
up the rabbit hole
(time
to
wake
up)
Savannah,
Your writing is so surreal. I love the mysterious quality of your words because it always keeps me on edge and wanting more. Your ability to maintain a storyline, lyrical wording and oozing sarcasm makes me long to emulate your casual yet refined style in my writing. I constantly fall into the “rabbit hole” of sophistication and lose the initial voice that I started with. This piece shows me how important it is to stay true to the style and choices throughout. I like the line, “oh, where was depression when you needed it the most?” the most.
One thing that you can add is the idea of the serial killer you mentioned earlier in the piece. I think it would be interesting if you included this character throughout each stanza to have a foreboding effect. If you do, then consider what the serial killer represents figuratively.
I am glad that I got to know you this year. Your writing is quite different than my style, and I have learned a few things that I can add to my work.
I wish you all the best in your future!
Nazeefa
Dear nazeefa
So sorry for the late reply
Im so glad you like this and found something to take away and apply to your own writing (which I really love and an a secret fan of). In an earlier draft of this piece i did go more in depth withthe serial killer dude but i cut it down because it was super long. Its been soo cool being in creative writing with you and thanks for reading.
Savannah
Savannah,
This is not the first (or last!) time I am going to confess to being a secret fan of your blog and writing. You are able to illustrate and talk about a complex and personal topic and have the reader fully infatuated. I love every phrase you wrote and I could hear a strong writer voice throughout. Beautiful!
For improvement, maybe separate “time to wake up” and have that in its own section just to emphasize that to add to its impact. Other than that, there isn’t much improvement I think you need!
I cannot believe this is possibly the last piece you write for creative writing! I hope you continue to write and post on this blog because I can honestly say you do not have a single piece I haven’t fallen in love with. Love forever.
Alyna <3
Dear Alyna
Thank you, glad you enjoy my stuff, I am really terrible at poetry( I can’t not make something a story) especially the spoken word assignment so this was away to make it as impersonal as possible (aka turning it into a story) . I’m not quite done writing for this year yet, I’m posting my fiction, January and December free choice also my final story. I will def change the time to wake up section.
=) Savannah
Dear Savannah,
I have honestly never gotten to know you enough personally over these years to say anything about you, but your writing says quite a bit. The way you are able to shift the typical structure of poetry and make it into more of a fictional narrative is pretty damn cool. My favourite line was when you said, “I give him a piece of my sanity to snack on”. The details you weaved into this poetic narrative are very direct and paint a picture of the characters in my mind.
For improvements, I would say that now since you have conquered this new style of writing, it would be cool for you to try writing the conventional poem as well.
All in all, I hope your grade 12 year ends off strong and that you keep having amazing new experiences every day.
Dear abhay
Sorry for the late reply but thank you for reading my feble attempt at poetry,i really tried to make it less narrative but i cant help but turn everything into a story. I hope you grade 12 year goes swell.
Savannah
Dear Savvy,
Hell yes! This poem turned out so good. I have noticed a huge improvement with your poetry compared to the beginning of the semester. I know you don’t think poetry is your strong suit but you are the master at weaving in these fantastical metaphors into you’re writing. They are unusual, unique and refreshing and as a lover of fantasy and weird abstract concepts myself this spoken word remains interesting no matter how many times I read it. (It reads as a story, which is probably why I’m never bored of it.)
Got no feedback. Keep being you’re weird self. =)
– Reegan
Dear reegan
Thanks for reading, yeah i tend to have a problem with turning everything i touch into a story. still think poetry is not for me but glad you enjoy this.
-savannah
Dear Savannah,
Woah. I cannot believe I haven’t read your pieces before. I just want to start off by saying that I love your aesthetic so much; it is so unique and – from what I know – true to you. Now back to this piece. As soon as I read the line: “the ones where you can’t drink a single drop of sleep,” I knew it’s gonna be good, and I was right. I absolutely loved the use of personification (if that’s even the right term) throughout the entire piece. Like, “I give him a piece of my sanity to snack on.,” that is honestly so cool, I would have never thought of anything like that. This is incredible.
My suggestion is fixing GUMPs – such as adding more punctuation, but that might be just your writing style, so ignore this if it’s that.
I gonna go stalk your blog now.
Sincerely,
Tina